Thursday, 3 December 2015

Blurred Lines

I sat with you in the hospital trying to make light of the situation. You sat there with catheters in your arms and tubes pumping medicine into your veins.

You didn’t deserve this - so kind and gentle. You deserved what I had but took for granted.  My mind was dying but so to was your body. I watched you many moments after that day struggling with your disease wishing we could trade places. Wishing I could suffer for you instead.
We were both so sick. One of us had no choice; the other had all the choices in the world.

We laid on the floor in the darkness. I felt your body tense up and your breathing begin to get heavier. I turned around so we were face to face in the darkness. I could see the outline of concern written across your brow. You closed your eyes and breathed in deeply. ‘I love you,’ you whispered to me in the night. I kissed you in return knowing that I could not say it back. I did not believe you, for you see, who could ever love a monster like me? 

He liked you from the start. There was no hesitation. He could see your soul and your soul held nothing but compassion. You swung his little body up onto the slide and helped him slide down. I was there at the bottom to catch him as you had caught me so many times before. We stood there all three of us and I fantasized that maybe one day this picture would actually become a reality. A little family of our own.

On my wall there is a hand written note that says ‘I will love you until the last rose dies.’ I still have that rose forever preserved in my draw. Surrounded by memories I am not yet ready to let go of. Forever preserving what couldn’t be. For you have died my sweet and with death so to dies your love. Your soul has been gifted to another whilst I sit here trying to come to terms with the fact that you have gone.

I type this slowly with tears streaming down my face knowing that I will never see you again.

Maybe we can go on a holiday together at some point you said. This is our holiday, our last trip, our final goodbye. We are travelling in opposite directions with a small hope that one-day we will meet again. But for now you are gone and it is easier for me to just let you go.

Sunday, 29 November 2015

End of the world

I love the way an image can make you feel. Capturing a single moment  in a frame that will last forever. I got lost in the photos imagining an entirely different world that was untouchable. 

Photographer - Kara Rosenlund 
Location - Satellite Island, Tasmania 

Friday, 27 November 2015

Wedding Cake Rock

Damsels in distress , giants on machinery zooming through the forest and a cliff face of death… this was my Saturday. Ok, ok it is slightly exaggerated but what was supposed to be a casual bush walk with friends turned into one massive, exhilarating and exciting adventure.

We began our walk in the Royal National Park to Wedding Cake Rock early Saturday morning; me and three friends. My friends slowly trudged their way along the path, making their way slowly to what would soon be our destination. Not me, I was on an adventure. I wanted to walk fast, get to Wedding Cake Rock as soon as possible and experience the wanders that this National Park had to offer. Needless to say I separated from the pack and raced ahead.

Stupidly only one of us had a working phone and knew the way to get to the rock – obviously this person was not me. So after approximately half an hour of me walking on my own I reached a fork in the road. I look left there is not a soul in site. I look right and I see one person on the horizon, so I turn right.

I stride ahead confident in my decision. After a period of time with only the company of dead shrubbery and the whispers of bush animals do I start to think to myself, am I lost? I have probably walked approximately 3-4km and should probably have reached my destination by now. As I continue walking ahead I finally come across human life. Two large gentlemen kitted out in motorcycle gear with large spears strapped to their backs. In my head I am thinking, don’t look at them, say hello and just move forward. As I move past them I finally notice that I have reached the end of the road. The end of the road being absolutely nothing. I have obviously gone the wrong way.

Kindly, one of the gentleman - we shall name him Adam - asks me if I am ok. To put this into perspective Adam is probably about 6’8’ tall and is a very solid man, not intimidating in the slightest (insert sarcasm). I toss up whether or not to lie or to tell the truth. Generally I would say don’t talk to strangers but alas I was in a bit of pickle and they looked like I could outrun them if things turned sour. I told them where I was supposed to be and they politely informed me that my destination was a whole other hike in the complete opposite direction. Looking like a lost sheep I think Adam and his friend Sean took pity on me.

“Well I guess we are going to have to give you a lift then?” My first thought went straight to my mum and I blurted something along the lines of ‘oh god my mother is going to kill me.’ Ha classic. It took a solid ten minutes of them trying to convince me but eventually I was swayed. With nothing but one of their helmets on my head and a firm grip around Adams waist I was on the back of a motorcycle racing through the bush.

I am going to let you in on a little secret, when a man riding a motorbike says that he will take it easy he is lying. We flew over, puddles, through sand and mud to get to my destination and I was shitting myself the entire time (not literally, I have better bowel control than that). Half way through this ‘joy ride’ he yells out to me in his deep Scottish accent, “you aren’t a lawyer are ya love?” “No I’m not, why do you ask?” “Just in case I actually do crash this bike I wanted to make sure you weren’t a lawyer first”…. Thank you Adam, that is very reassuring whilst I am already on the moving bike.

Finally I see some speckles on the path in-front. I recognise my number one lady ahead and I start screaming her name. Joyous to share my adventure with her and also so excited that I have not died. She turns around and is probably blindsided by the mass of man coming straight towards her on deadly motorbikes, so I pop my head to the side hoping she will catch a glimpse of my mop under my helmet. As soon as she sees me her body slightly crumbles into a fit of giggles. When I asked her what she was thinking she just said that she was not surprised in the slightest that this type of thing happened to me.

My knights in shining armour dropped me at Wedding Cake Rock and my body was safely back on safe ground. Wedding Cake Rock was beautiful and I thoroughly enjoyed the view, but I think my Mad Max esque adventure was the cherry on top.

My knights in shiny armour in all there glory... Told you I wasnt joking about the spears and the very tall man.

My girlfriend fantasised of a romance between me and my knight.... this was her oh so subtle hint. Smooth. 

And what is a Marlow Lou post without a few terribly unattractive but completely natural photos. Shakas braaaaaaa

Wednesday, 18 November 2015


You were born to be real, not to be perfect. 

I was recently reading a transcript by Tal Ben-Shahar where he discussed the concept of perfectionism. He discussed two types of perfectionism. Firstly adaptive perfectionism, which is a healthy form of perfectionism where you strive for higher and higher standards. It is about working hard, making sure things are done well and acknowledging those achievements. The second type of perfectionism is maladaptive perfectionism; what Ben-Shahar described as unhealthy perfectionism. A form of perfection that rejects success,failure and painful emotions. "It is a fear of failure that is debilitating, and a fear of failure that doesn't allow us to try, to take risks, to explore, to meander" 

I have always associated myself as a perfectionist. A person who has always strived to do better and to be better. Unfortunately it didn't matter how well I was doing in my studies, professional life, personal life even in something as vain as my appearance - I was never good enough.  After reading Ben-Shahar's transcript I could finally relate to how I was feeling and it was this concept of maladaptive perfectionism. 

I have always felt this need to reach a perfect standard, but what is a perfect standard? Who defines when that perfect standard has been reached? There is no such definition and therefore it is an unattainable goal. Subconsciously knowing this I limit myself to certain things. I get extreme anxiety if I have to try something new or do something in front of someone with the fear that I may not be good at it. The fear that I may not be good enough. After reading the transcript I think a lightbulb went off in my head telling me that if I continue down this path I wont reach happiness or 'perfection', I will ultimately be doing the complete opposite. 

I agree with Ben Shahar when he said "If we want to live a good life, we first have to accept reality. Reality that constitutes failures and successes, emotional lows and everything in-between, and when we accept reality, when we accept nature for what it is, that's when we enjoy higher levels of motivation, happiness, and in the long term, success." 

Just a thought

On a side note - One of my all time favourite things in life are chickpeas! You can only imagine my pure enthusiasm/joy/scream at the top of my lungs excitement when I found a kilo tin of chickpeas on the side of the road. Don't worry I didn't eat them, but just to know that a kilo tin of chickpeas exists makes me oh so happy. 

Saturday, 14 November 2015


Liberate yourself from the past.

I think the past can often define an individual. I am not saying that it should or that this statement applies to each and every single one of us but it is easy to let a moment, a person or a series of events hold you back.

I think as a sensitive and emotional person I am often pulled into the past – a flashback of thoughts or moments that cannot be changed. They often consume and drown me into a sea of sadness that is extremely hard to pull myself out of.

I find that getting caught up in things that you cannot change is often poisonous to the soul. The past is something that is solid, untouchable – a piece of time that cannot be changed (unless you are a time traveller and if you are can I please join you on some adventures).  If that is the case why do we often let these thoughts control us? Why do we often dwell on those moments, people and events that we cannot change?

I catch myself thinking about this quite frequently. If we all just lived in the present moment – the here and now – how would we feel? Whenever a friend is stressing or in need of some advice I always come back to this one statement, ‘in this moment, right now, what is there to be unhappy about?’ If you actually think about this statement in a very literal sense, most of the time you are in quite a healthy, happy space. As I sit here typing I am alone in my bedroom drinking wine and listening to tunes. There are so many elements of my past that I could be upset about and so many elements of my future that if I over analysed would cause me great anxiety. So if I focused on this exact moment what is there to be unhappy about? Absolutely nothing.

Often we are upset about things that have occurred or things that we think will occur, but never about the present moment. If I were crying right now it would not be about something that is happening, it would be about something that has occurred. Whether that be two minutes ago or two hours ago…. It is still in the past.

I guess what I am trying to say in this very long winded and possibly confusing rant is that I want you to focus on you. Not who you were or who you are going to be but you right now. Focus on that beautiful person right now because I can assure you that majority of the time this present being is happy, healthy and going to be alright.

So lets live in the present. Not the past, not the future but this gorgeous, special moment you are in right here, right now.